


Afterparty

by MandalaMoons



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 02:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19219414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandalaMoons/pseuds/MandalaMoons
Summary: “We may not have been destined to be written in the stars, but we chose to be written in the stars.“A bit of a contemplative drabble on my part, choosing to see what happens between Noctis and my OC Solia after the 10 year timeskip. Shameless fluffy smut pretty much.





	Afterparty

_**“We may not have been destined to be written in the stars, but we chose to be written in the stars.“** _

 

_In which, person A, who has a soulmate and had met them before, reassures person B, their S/O, that they love person B, not person C, or whoever their soulmate is!_

 

 

\---

 

It's not unusual for Solia to become melancholy, even in happiest of occasions. The party has died down, a celebration of the first year of renewed daylight, and he notes the streamers and plates of food a few of the servants are cleaning away under Ignis' watchful eagle gaze.

She's out on the balcony, where Noctis thought she might be, overlooking the city and shoreline. There's still much to be done, but Noctis can see that things are slowly getting better, more people and lights dotting the horizon as Insomnian's new and old resume their lives.

The dress is lovely, sheer and black, leaving the delicate ridges of Solia's spine exposed, and for a moment, he aches to remove his formal gloves and caress the smooth warm skin, lay soft kisses there and watch as goosebumps rise up to greet his lips.

But he doesn't, only hanging to gaze out the glass double doors to watch her, frowning slightly. He can feel a hulking figure shift their weight just slightly behind him but Noctis only sighs.

"Gladio if you've got something to say don't hang back."

Gladio chuckles and claps the king on his shoulder, "Feelin' lovesick?"

In the past, Noctis would have shrugged off such a suggestion, flushing furiously and sharply denying any such emotion. But, he's different now, older, a little wiser, though not always in the most obvious of ways.

"A little. More worried than anything." he admits.

"Why, wedding jitters?" his friend teases gruffly, motioning to the glittering ring on his fiancé's finger as she takes a sip of wine.

Noctis shakes his head, "I don't think she's happy."

Gladio falls silent, watching the princess along with the king. Their relationship had been unexpected, but welcome. A force for good. Something to give Noctis a reason to keep going after Insomnia's fall and Lunafreya's death.

"She loves you." his shield says defiantly.

Noctis sighs, "Oh, yeah, I know she does. I just..."

He falters. It's a personal problem, one that Noctis wouldn't normally bring up, even to his retainers and he shakes his head, leading Gladio to nudge him. He knows him too well.

"She compares herself to Luna. I think...she feels...guilty."

"About Lady Lunafreya's death? She knows she's not responsible for that." Gladio murmurs, deep in thought.

However, Noctis shakes his head. "No. You remember...when we first met her...or when you first met her. And we went on that hunt with her to that abandoned tomb, and she and I got lost for that day."

Gladio chuckles, "Sure do, Ignis was beside himself with panic."

"We camped out...and I got absolutely wasted." Noctis shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn't happy about the wedding to Lunafreya, I tried to hide it, but I never...thought of her like that. She was my friend. I just blew it off, and it didn't seem real.

Gladiolus frowns, looking quizzically at Noctis. He'd always assumed Noctis wasn't too into the idea of marrying Lunafreya, but he'd always just chalked it up to nerves, and the boy's rampant immaturity.

"I had a huge fight with my dad over it." Noctis admits, shame burning his chest. "After the death of the Altissian royal family, and the whole takeover of Tenabrae, I'd have dreams of Solia and I as children. Sometimes I was older than her. She'd reach out to me, and I'd pick her up to take her out of a desert with no water. I didn't know what it meant. But I refused to believe she had died."

Noctis sighs, fiddling with his cufflinks. "I held onto it for years, to her. I knew she was alive somehow, but I couldn't get anyone but her Valarian to believe it. I mean...thinking back on it now...of course he knew, he knew she'd escaped."

Gladio hummed quietly, watching his charge work through his feelings. "Did you know it was her, that night at camp?"

Noctis watches Solia through the glass, memorizing her features as he speaks. "I think I may have, in a way. We started talking about stuff, fishing and sailing mostly, and she was just so easy to talk to. I never felt that kind of connection with a girl before, not really. I'd had a few beers, and then all of a sudden I was telling her about who I was, about the wedding and how I felt forced into all of it. I talked about how it was easy to be with her, how I wished how I could pick someone like her. We kissed."

"So, you liked somebody." Gladio says softly, "It happens." It's not like he needs to make the King feel any guilt over the issue, though Noctis' confession surprises him. And yet all at once, he's reminded that deep down at the time, the King had barely been twenty years old.

"We kept talking...even after that. I was...I don't know man, I was falling for her." Noctis says, his tone pained. "But, when I told her I was going to Altissia, she cut all contact. I didn't realize she was there already...I think she saw the wedding dress and it hit her. She and Ravus had already connected, and she realized Luna was still alive."

Noctis falls silent, a pang in his chest at the thought of Luna, glancing up at Solia, and for a moment, he longs to forgo the conversation entirely. He could go outside to join her, wrap her in his arms and forget. But, he can feel Gladio's hand on his shoulder, urging him to continue.

"After I found out who Solia was, after Iggy disappeared, I just made up my mind. I wasn't going to lose her, or anyone else ever again. She gave me…someone to come home to… She helped me defy them. I think...if she hadn't interfered, things would have gone much differently. I think she feels...guilty, because she and I weren't destined by some prophecy or whatever."

Gladio sighs, glancing out to the balcony. The Altissian princess carries her own form of burdens, from the gods and from mere mortals.

"How do you feel about it?" he says finally. "I mean, do you think it's wrong?"

"No." Noctis says flatly, "I just want...I don't want her to feel like she's second to someone else, because she never was to me."

"Well, tell her that." Gladiolus murmurs, gesturing to the glass. "I mean...I don't know if the guilt will fade but, it might..help her if she knew."

“The thing was, it would have always been her, if the fall of the Altissian royal family never happened, if Dad had just _listened_ to me…I think we could have avoided, well a lot.

Gladio watches the king carefully, listens to the sudden sharpness in his voice as he speaks about his late father, there’s still anger there, and maybe a bit of blame.

“She’s here now though, still going to be your wife. It counts, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” he asks the Shield. “She’s not been raised as a royal child, she’s rough around the edges and…I’m worried for her. I’m worried that the people’s reception of her will be less than kind. I mean, you know her, she’s not at all some dignified public type.”

Then Noctis sighs, hard. “Gladio…don’t…don’t take this the wrong way but…I’m thinking of leaving with her, taking her away and just living as hunters.”

His friend’s ill hidden snort makes Noctis turn, his eyes narrowing sharply, but Gladio waves a big hand nocommitally. “You Noct? Living just completely on your own in the middle of nowhere with Solia? You’d both be living on cup noodles for days, not that I’d complain but I think you don’t have the taste for it.”

Then, he smiles, a little more kindly than Noctis is anticipating, “Look, I get it though, I was like that with Sania a lot when you were gone, constantly trying to protect her. But she proved herself, and I think Solia will too. She’s very driven and dedicated, maybe less regal than Lunafreya was, but think about the stories of the Six. My dad used to tell them to us. How Bahamut’s wife wasn’t demure gentle Shiva, but the Leviathan. I never got it as a kid, but watching you two sometimes, I think I kind of get it now. Just talk to her, you’re about to get married, get her to tell you how she’s feeling and then help her through it, she might fight at first, but I think it’s what she needs.”

Before Noctis can respond, Gladio is gone, disappeared to speak to some member of the Kingsguard, and the King sucks in a sharp breath, his hand trembling on the ornate doorknob that separates him from her.

The air outside is cool and achingly fragrant, carrying Solia's perfume on the wind as he moves towards her. Gently, he wraps his arms about her waist, and she jumps sharply, turning to him. He smiles at her, and she heaves out a breath, leaning her head back on his chest.

"Noctis, you scared me."

"Sorry baby." he whispers mildly, "What are you doing out here? Party got to be too much huh?"

"A little," she admits. "I'm not used to all this, people bowing to me, talking so respectfully. It's weird."

He sways delicately with her in his arms. She reaches forward to take a sip of the wine, offering him the remains of her glass. He ponders his friend’s words for a moment but then shakes his head, preferring to kiss her temple. He might as well give it a chance.“We could step down." Noctis offers softly, "Six knows we've done enough work already. Go live somewhere together quietly, be hunters."

He means it too, he'd do it in a heartbeat if it would ease her conscious in any way. She's ill-prepared to be a Queen and Noctis knows it. Had everything played out like their parents had planned, she would be the Empress Consort and such duties would not fall to her as they had now.

His hands trace patterns down her bare shoulders, leaning down to kiss them. He peppers her shoulders with kisses, and she sighs, turning so that she can tuck her head under his chin.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't...tempt the fates any longer. The stories have to play out this time. If not Shiva's, Leviathan's must."

Noctis hums, "What's Leviathan's story?"

"She and Bahamut keep the balance together...the balance must be maintained in some form or another.”

Like Gladio had said Leviathan had been the loyal wife of Bahamut, the God of War and the Patron deity of his own household. She upheld all of his secrets, the only one of the Six he truly trusted. But sometimes as the Goddess of Death, she would be forced to act in his stead. It's this role they must play now. A balancing act of leadership and justice, however harsh it could be.

"So Leviathan and Bahamut can't keep the balance as hunters?" he asks teasingly, but Solia shakes her head, somber and serious. Though she often liked to pretend she didn't give a damn about faith, Noctis knows better.

They fall silent, and Noctis dolefully offers up a silent prayer to the two gods for her happiness. There's a faint splash of water heard in the background and Noctis isn't sure if it's the TideMother's blessing, or a mild request to go fuck himself.

"Are you happy?" Noctis questions.

"Are you?"

It's so like her to be infuriatingly avoidant of his questions at times, and he frowns down at her, a childish irritation evident in his gaze. However, the sight of it makes her giggle. Little minx that she is, he can't help but smile in spite of himself.

"I am if you are. So are you?"

She looks thoughtful, her gaze turning to the moon and Noctis knows what he'd just discussed with Gladio is on her mind.

"I love you." Noctis says suddenly, curling a hand over her cheek, as if somehow that might protect her from such guilt. "Solia...I...no matter what was supposed to happen...I love you okay? I loved Luna too, but she was my friend. No matter what it seems like, especially with the Gods or the TideMother, you didn't come between her and I. I chose you...I always chose you."

He can feel dampness spread on his gloved fingers, and he leans down to kiss her forehead. Gladio was right. She needed this.

"Why are you so _damn_ good?" she says, voice trembling, "You really are the King of Light you know...you always know."

"Stop it." he says not unkindly, all that King of Light stuff Noctis could live without hearing from her lips. She'd always been one of the few people, especially now who didn't see him as some messiah, and he hoped she wasn't about to start.

He feels her forehead press against his cheek as she closes her eyes against him. She's almost uncharacteristically vulnerable in this moment, and Noctis curls around her even more tightly, lest she pull back from him behind that wall she'd never really been able to get over.

"I'm glad you're letting me comfort you for once." Noctis murmurs hesitantly.

Solia falls silent now, her damp warm breath on his neck as he casts his gaze downwards towards her. Her breathing is rhythmic and slow, and he's grateful that she hasn't pulled away from his grasp, though he supposes his vice grip on her might be playing a role in that.

"She's been telling me to." she says, her voice carrying the shyness of girlhood that Noctis thinks will forever make his heart skip a beat.

"The Tidemother?"

She nods against his shoulder and he presses another kiss to the crown of her head, chest nearly fit to burst at the swell of affection he feels towards her.

“What does she say?” he probes gently.

“Lots of stuff.” Solia says, her fingertips trailing lazily on his waist, “Mostly in dreams she comes to me now. It’s less intense than before. She’s trying to teach me to be...trusting…and to follow your lead more.”

Noctis blinks, startled at the statement. “Follow me?”

“Yeah,” she says timidly, “Like…I think I just got super used to being on my own, and handling things alone, pretty much all the time. Then, when we met and started hanging out more, and talking, I just wanted to be with you all the time, it really freaked me out, since I was so used to just being on my own. I felt like I could just…lose myself in you sometimes. Then, in Altissia when I met up with Ravus and Aranea I was just...”

She falters, shaking her head, but keeping Gladio’s words in mind Noctis urges her on, “What?”

“Ravus was just…he really wanted to tell Lunafreya about me. I think he thought I would keep her from pursuing the Gods as much as she had, but I overheard a conversation they had, and she was just…so in love with you. You were her whole hope, and I didn’t want to take that away. I thought that maybe if I cut it off with you…you both could be happy, and I couldn’t take someone’s happiness like that. You didn’t realize who I was, and I thought I could just disappear and it would be fine.”

She’s gnawing at her lip now, and her eyes are suddenly glassy. Reaching over to the balcony, she downs the remainder of the wine she’d offered to him earlier. He runs the back of his knuckles over the ridges of her spine, attempting in vain to soothe her.

“When Lunafreya summoned the TideMother, I knew.” Solia says, sucking in a breath. “I think…she could sense that my energy was close, and she was so angry that Lady Lunafreya was calling for her when it was _my_ duty. I felt it.”

“Solia,” Noctis says firmly, his tone not unlike that of the one that he’d used with Talcott a year prior. “You couldn’t have known how things were going to go down. Luna, she knew the risks. She was the Oracle.”

The thought of Luna is painful, achingly so, but the sight of Solia so distraught pushes him towards urgency. The dam she’s been holding back is breaking, and when she pulls away from him he doesn’t allow it.

“No. Come here.” He says. She refuses to look at him, and he can see tears sliding off the edge of her nose. He pulls her head up, and her eyes dart back down, frantic and shamed.

“I’m so sorry, Noctis.” She whispers, her voice breaking. “I should have done more. It should be her here, not me. I spent so long running away from all of it, and I can’t…I can’t let you let me off the hook anymore. I have to make up for all of it somehow, don’t I?”

But, before he can even speak, she angers, wiping furiously at her eyes like a frustrated child. “I promised I wouldn’t do this tonight. It’s the anniversary of your victory, and I’m ruining it.”

The chill in the air makes her shiver, and wordlessly he pulls off his cloak and places it over her shoulders. He removes his gloves too, tucking them into his pocket before reaching for the black handkerchief tucked away in his breast pocket.

 

“Ignis insisted on this dumb thing, can you believe it?” he says gently, “He swore up and down that I might need it, and that it was gentlemanly or something.”

Delicately as he can, he wipes at the smudged mascara on her cheeks, being careful not to ruin her makeup.

“You look great tonight.” He says mildly, “You don’t have to wear black though, I know it’s the Insomnian color and all that, but if you’d rather wear Altissian colors, that’s totally fine too. When we were kids, my dad was so strict about me following Altissian customs, because he said our marriage was to be a union of two kingdoms.”

Noctis doesn’t know why he’s sharing all this with her, but he feels that an easy flow of conversation will soothe her. The past six months have been an adjustment for them both, and though time has flowed seamlessly for him, there have been ten years of separation for her.

“There!” he says gently, pulling away the handkerchief, “Good as new.”

She laughs thickly, and Noctis is relieved to hear it. “My mom and sister were the same way. Insisted on the black whenever you came to see us. With Ravus, my sister kind of threw herself into Tenabrae customs and clothes and started following them even when he wasn’t around. I think it’s just kind of…an affection thing. I just picked black because I thought it would please you.”

“You know what really pleases your king?” he says, eyes twinkling mischievously as he tilts his head down to lap at her neck. Willingly she moves to give him easier access, hands trembling against his chest as she moves closer.

“Having you all to myself,” he continues, nipping at her jaw, “That ridiculous councilmember for Accordo at dinner tonight was unbearably close. Kept leaning in to whisper in your ear. It took everything I had not to say something.

“I knew you didn’t like that.” She says throatily, her hands moving up to tangle in his hair. “I felt your hand…hmm, like that.”

Noctis’ hand trails down to the base of her spine, fingers tucking just below the dip of her dress to feel the bare skin there.

“I don’t want you to feel like it should have been anyone else here tonight but you,” he says sharply, “I chose you.”

Her mouth finds his own, she tastes of wine and something needy. It’s no matter though, because Noctis knows he can fulfill that need. Desire pools in his belly, and he pulls away, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Come on, it's bedtime." he says cheekily, "It's getting chilly out here, and I want to warm you up.“

He guides her gently back into the citadel, a few streamers clinging to his heels which Ignis hurries forward to help him with, though Noctis can't keep from rolling his eyes.

"Can't all the cleaning wait? It's bedtime and tomorrow we can actually sleep in for once. Go sleep in for once in your life."

Ignis however, sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose firmly, "Majesties, please. It's my responsibility and-"

"Ignis," Solia says suddenly, her tone sweet and good-natured, "Relax, please? Even you should take a break sometimes."

Ignis smiles fondly at her, and tilts his head downwards in acceptance. He has the softest spot for Solia of all Noctis' friends, in part because she means so much to Noctis.

"Very well, my lady." he says finally, taking the small streamer that's been clinging to Noctis' heel and folding it neatly to put in his breast pocket. "I suppose the rest can wait until morning."

He bids them goodnight and they move towards the elevators, passing a sleepy Prompto who claps Noctis' shoulder wearily.

"Thought Ignis was never gonna stop making us pick up streamers."

Once in the elevator, Noctis quietly presses the buttons to navigate them to what they called the living quarters were. Solia's arms slowly wind around his own. He taps his foot impatiently, longing nothing more than to climb into a plush bed.

"Elevators." Solia murmurs, watching him, her eyes masked with lust. "In your own house, so damn weird."

He chuckles softly, "Sol, you'll get used to it, I promise."

Already her eager fingers find the buttons on his shirt, opening his shirt just a little. The air makes goosebumps rise on his chest and her fingertips graze over the scars there, planting kisses on each one, and he hums.

“Wait baby. We’re almost home free.”

The elevator doors slide open and she slides out, moving gracefully along the hallway into their shared quarters, Noctis following her at a brisk pace of his own.

Their quarters are practically a small apartment, a lavish sitting area bathed in black and gold before a large marble fireplace, a television above it, and in a slightly larger nook, there is the four poster monstrosity of a bed that they've shared for almost six months now.

As they enter the door, Noctis is already kicking off the confines of his dress shoes and undoing the clasps of his jacket, and tossing it onto the small black sofa. Solia is at their nightstand, removing her earrings and bracelets.

"Want me to light the fireplace?" he offers, "It's pretty cold in here."

“Please,” she says.

Noctis tugs off his shirt before turning on the gas fireplace and lighting it. The fire crackles cheerfully and casts the room in a warm glow.

“Come here,” he says, watching her remove the Altissian crown and place it in the velvet lined box on her vanity. “Let me help you out of your dress.”

He gazes at her naked back, grateful to have the gloves off as he strokes the ridges of her spine before finding the hidden zipper near the small of her back and tugging it downwards. The billowy material slides off her, pooling at the floor near her feet and she shivers.

“I love this.” He says softly, mouth moving down to kiss and nip her shoulders, “So much better than us sneaking off into Crows Nest bathrooms and in the Regalia late at night.”

She laughs softly, her hands threading in his raven hair, “Don’t forget the boats.”

“How could I forget that, sneaking out to go sail, the early mornings in your tent? Aranea would let me in, pry Ravus away so that we could have a few moments together.”

Solia’s nimble fingertips are sliding in his pants, stroking him and he groans softly. Her breath is hitching in her throat and his thumb skates over a hardened nipple, before he leans down to kiss her again, heady with desire.

His hips buck playfully into her hand, and she whimpers needily.

The sound fills him with a sudden, primal possessiveness, and he shoves her back against the wall, nearly knocking down one of the paintings hanging there. His mouth is on hers, and he snaps at her bottom lip, hands fumbling with her panties before tossing them aside.

“Noctis,” she mewls, and he shivers.

“I love how you get when we do this.” He says softly, slipping a hand between her folds to stroke her aroused little bud. “You get so sweet and vulnerable.

Her eyes are lidded and her face is flushed as she watches him. The blush sinks prettily into her chest and she lets out a quiet moan, her hips slowly moving against the ministrations of his fingers.

“That’s it princess,” he praises, “let go.”

Bracing his other hand on the wall, Noctis pushes himself closer to her. “What do you want? Tell me.”

She cries out again when he slowly slides a few digits inside of her. Her slick walls grip him tightly and he licks his lips, watching her through hooded eyes.

“Want me to take charge?” he questions, “Fast, or do you want it slow and easy?”

Her head lolls back, exposing the soft skin of her neck. Her hand slides up to fist in her hair and for a moment Noctis wishes he could take her picture, savor the moment. Had the Draconian done this for the Tide Mother? Had someone so powerful so completely bent to his will?

“Answer me, baby.” He says, breath tickling her ear as he rocks his fingers against her.

She whimpers again, swallowing hard, “Gods Noct, just give me anything.” Her hand grips his wrist, attempting to steady herself and he withdraws his fingers from her, lapping at them hungrily.

He fumbles with the buttons on his slacks for a moment, tugging them down halfway so that he can lift her up against the wall and drive himself into her. They both cry out, and he can feel her nails digging into his shoulder blades.

She clings to him, and he feels her head dip to rest against his shoulders, her breath hot on his skin as he thrusts in and out of her, finding a suitable rhythm. The thrusts are punctuated with her tiny gasps, and he groans, guttural.

“Sol…you feel so good.”

His name falls from her lips again, and he shudders, the thought that her voice might carry through the walls is both embarrassing and arousing, and he picks up speed, trying to coax more from her.

He’s rewarded with an escalating moan, shifting upwards in pitch, and he can’t help but laugh, praising her beneath soft panting. “You like that princess?”

He bites down on her neck, hard enough to bruise, and laps at the mark to soothe her when she cries out, surprised. It almost pushes her to the edge, and he feels her tighten around him, slowing down his pace slightly.

“Noctis, faster.” She begs, her legs tightening around his waist. Bracing her with a hand under her hip, he begins to pick up speed again. Pleasure slides down his spine and he moans softly into her hair, lost in the feeling of her, the sweet, perfumed air around them. He doesn’t want anything but her warm delicate skin on his own.

Her back slips just a fraction down the wall, and Noctis adjusts his grip to hoist her upwards again. She curls into him, and he knows she’s close.

“Let go,” he coaxes again, voice hoarse, “I’m here, let go.”

It only takes a few more strokes and she releases, her entire body stiffening as she lets out a sharp, keening cry that’s almost a sob. He mumbles soothing words to her, incoherent and rushed as her orgasm triggers his own, sex twitching inside of her as he curses sharply.

Sleepiness instantly hits him and he shakes his head, setting her to her feet as gently as he can. Her knees are shaking and she braces herself on his arms, still trying to come down from the height of her own orgasm.

He can’t help but chuckle at her flushed face and messy hair, and he leans down to kiss her, slow and full.

“Come on princess,” he says, “Lets get in bed.” 

He guides her a few feet away to the bed, and laughs softly when she pulls him down beside her, the plush fabric welcoming them.

“Oh man,” he mumbles, face half covered by the silken fabric of the duvet. “We are not leaving this bed tomorrow until lunchtime.”

Solia laughs, squirming closer to him as she rubs a soothing pattern against his back. “I’m fine with that, maybe going out for lunch would be nice.” But before he can grab her to pull her into his arms, she’s moving off the bed.

"One of my t-shirts is over there somewhere." he says, gesturing noncommittally in the direction of the chaise near the fireplace.

Noctis could swear that he hears her laugh, and he's pleased when she finally crawls beside him in the bed, smelling of him as she tucks herself into the duvet to breathe a sigh of relief. The fire crackles softly and Noctis pulls her against him, feeling the rounded curve of her hipsas he does so.

Again he feels that familiar swell of affection for her, and as she begins to drift off, he speaks.

“You’re way too hard on yourself,”he mumbles sleepily, attempting to force his eyes open, if only to see Solia's expression. He can feel her calloused fingertips tracing his collarbone, hesitant and shy.

“Don’t question my judgment so much.“ he says, “I know it’s different now, and I know we missed out on a lot of the regular stuff, the standard courting traditions and whatever. But, we can do all that now in our own way. What’s that one fable? The Fur Socks or something like that?”

At this, Solia laughs softly. “Cloak. The Fur Cloak.“

He can feel her smile into his chest, and she hums musically.

“Yeah, yeah that one.” Noctis mumbles quietly, “I used to think that story was so boring. The one where Bahamut is sitting and drinking with the other Gods, and he and Ifrit were debating over who was the best warlord. And Ifrit told him of his fights with the mountains and the blizzard, then Bahamut comes and he talks about slaying a rabbit.”

Noctis hands tangle lazily in her hair, “You always smell like the sea and flowers, no matter where you are.” He murmurs. “But, anyway, I started to understand that story more recently. How the win wasn’t really the kill, or his accomplishments…but how he managed to win over the TideMother, when she’d been considered unwinnable by anyone after she was burned by Ifrit in the first place.”

“Nights like this win me over Noct, you’re not wrong there.” She says, laughing quietly.

“You’ve been burned too though,” Noctis says more seriously and Solia can feel his arms wrap tightly about her. “That burn, it only goes away once she lets someone in. You gotta do that too, let me in. Talk to me, tell me what you think about things. If something’s happening that you don’t like, or don’t agree with, speak up. I know you don’t feel like you’ve ever really been a princess, or royalty, but…you have every right to make choices. This is your home too.”

“Noctis,” she says sleepily, “ _You’re_ my home, I’m happiest with you, wherever we are, hunters, or royalty. I’d follow you to the end of Eos, had you asked.”

Solia's eyelashes flutter against his chest like the delicate wings of a butterfly and he can tell she's starting to fall asleep.

“My sleepy little huntress,” Noctis purrs quietly, “Rest and dream of rabbit fur..”


End file.
